


adamantine dreams

by vanicanela



Series: an unwavering heart [1]
Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Childhood Friends, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Pokemon AU, Time Skips, no sexual abuse in this house, or rather the pokémon au nobody asked for but i'm making anyway, sort of prequel?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 11:21:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20096434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanicanela/pseuds/vanicanela
Summary: Eiji meets Ash for the first time in winter.Every single day Eiji goes to the Dreamyard and waits until the sun sets, which was the signal that Ash wouldn’t go that day to see him. He feels utterly glad that he managed to make a friend, ahumanone, in the foreign Unova.Or, the story of two friends before the storm.





	adamantine dreams

He meets Ash for the first time in winter.

Eiji pants as he struggles to walk, boots constantly getting stuck in the snow and warm breaths dissolving into the gelid air. It’s far from ideal to be outside when the temperature is below freezing without Buddy, but ever since he arrived to the foreign Striaton City he’s taken to visiting the Dreamyard from time to time, and today he is more than a little homesick. It won’t amuse his mother at all if he gets a cold just like his Pokémon, and Buddy will probably be worried sick if he wakes up in his feverish state and notices he’s not there.

But Eiji likes the Dreamyard—it’s surrounded by trees and Pokémon and abandoned by people, with only wandering trainers popping up occasionally. With its industrial and ashen ruins it doesn’t remind him at all of the lively and ancient Ecruteak City, but for some reason a weight lifts off his chest every single time he comes.

It’s his escape.

He breathes in relief when he reaches a clearing between some trees and a little far from the industrial part of the Dreamyard, his preferred spot. The ground is a startling white, covered with a deep layer of snow, but Eiji sits down all the same, wincing at the expected cold and wetness. Without Buddy, he has nothing more to do than look up at the opaque blue sky. The silence is nice, though—a blessing in disguise.

He likes the peaceful silence more than the awkward pauses and mocking giggles of his classmates after he stumbles with the pronunciation of yet another word, than the absence of his father more often than not in their home. He can seal his eyes shut and allow himself to believe he’s back again in Johto, in _home_.

When, with a long, defeated sigh, he opens them and is welcomed by vibrant green eyes staring at him, he instantly recoils, rubbing his own eyes violently. And suddenly—

—it’s no longer winter, but autumn, and the sun’s dim glow turns warm and bright. They’re surrounded by trees that shimmer with a myriad of orange and ochre hues, the tall silhouette of the Bell Tower breaking the sight of an otherwise capricious and endless blue sky. Eiji holds his breath, overwhelmed, and absently hears a gasp; but before he knows it it’s winter again, the day bleak and grey, colors dissolving like water.

The ground seems to sway beneath him and he closes his eyes for a moment to regain his balance, the imprints of color still lingering in the back of his eyelids. When he recalls the green eyes and stands up abruptly, looking around him, he’s alone.

Eiji returns the next day. And the next. And the next.

He gets narrowed eyes from his mother every time he returns home at sunset, pants drenched and limbs numb for sitting in the snow for too long. Ayame, his little sister, also sneaks suspicious glances at him; nevertheless he keeps going to the Dreamyard in search of those green eyes and why, for a split-second, he was back home.

It gets easier when Buddy recovers from his cold and joins him in his search, every day after school both of them going to the Dreamyard. Not only does the Growlithe help to keep him warm, but he also lends an ear for Eiji to vent.

“I saw it Buddy,” he murmurs as they sit in the snow, the Pokémon snuggling contentedly on his lap after exhausting himself playing and the sun beginning to dip low in the sky, “I don’t know what it was, but in the blink of an eye I was back in Johto.”

Buddy whines at the mention of home and Eiji tightens the hand on his soft fur, feeling tears prickle at the back of his eyes.

A week later, when the winter holidays start and Eiji’s resolve starts to falter, his efforts are _finally_ rewarded.

He’s throwing sticks for Buddy to catch, the Growlithe wagging his tail excitedly each time he catches one and returns it to him, when he feels someone staring at him. Instantly Buddy bolts towards Eiji, growling to something behind them. When he turns around, he sees them.

The green eyes.

They belong to a child who conceals himself behind a tree, an unknown Pokémon standing beside him and eyeing Buddy warily. The boy looks _young_, but Eiji thinks he can’t be that much younger than him—maybe two years younger, around 11 years old. He seems slightly afraid, something sinister and feral in the crimson eyes of his Pokémon partner.

Eiji tries to smile disarmingly, shushing Buddy and looking at the boy. “Hi.”

Eiji intends for his words to be soft, but they cut the silence like a knife, making the boy flinch. He’s terribly afraid that, for a moment, he will run away like a frightened wild Pokémon, but he doesn’t. He keeps himself firmly in place, even when his Pokémon—small with accents of blue on his otherwise dark fur—tugs at his pants worriedly, eyes softening when looking at the boy.

“…hi,” he answers after what feels an eternity, voice quiet. Eiji’s smile widens and Buddy relaxes marginally, but still doesn’t let up his combative stance.

“I… you were here before, right?” Eiji asks, shoving the curses at his mediocre English to the back of his mind, “You were here… and I back home.”

The boy remains silent, staring at him with those impossibly green eyes of his. Then, he walks towards him, leaving the tree where he partially hid. The pale sunlight hits him when he steps into the clearing and Eiji is struck at how, for the lack of a better word, _beautiful_ he is.

He never thought someone could have hair that looked like gold.

His skin is so pale that the rosy dust that covers his cheeks is easily visible, features round and soft—like the child he is. His gaze is still fixed on him, and Eiji fidgets, feeling that he’s being subjected to some kind of trial. Sensing his discomfort, Buddy tenses again, but the boy never breaks his stare.

The unknown Pokémon’s eyes suddenly flare with an electric blue, not unlike the shade on his fur, and the scenery surrounding them changes. Once more, the trees are filled with ochre foliage, the sunlight warm and bright, an endless blue sky above them and the Bell Tower standing proud and tall. Buddy drops his fighting stance in disbelief, but when Eiji gets over his split-second surprise, he realizes there’s something wrong that he wasn’t able to discern the first time.

“Not real,” he whispers, not meaning to sound so devastated about it. When he blinks, Ecruteak City is gone, the boy’s shoulders hunched and his Pokémon’s eyes back again to red.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, lowering his eyes. “It was Zorua’s ability. You were projecting that image and by mistake Zorua made the illusion.”

“Oh,” Eiji breathes, because it’s the first time he hears about a Pokémon able to make illusions aside from the mystical Ninetails and because for some reason he truly thought he was back home. He tries to smile, even when the boy isn’t looking at him. “Do not worry.”

“It was… very beautiful. And colorful. Warm,” he says, so softly Eiji almost misses it. “I… had never seen anything like it.”

How can Eiji tell him of everything that Ecruteak City is, with its wide streets and the perpetual autumn that sets over the city, in a language where the words always seem out of his grasp?

“It is my home,” he settles with that, smiling. At his feet, Buddy has finally relaxed, licking his paw and watching them curiously. “In the Johto region. Enju City.”

The boy’s eyes seem to sparkle slightly when he looks at Eiji, the ghost of a smile curling his lips. It looks like a frail, delicate thing, and a surge of protectiveness flares in his chest.

“Thank you for showing me it.”

When he turns around and begins to walk away, dread starts to twirl in Eiji’s stomach, having the feeling that if he disappears, he would never see the mysterious boy and his Pokémon partner—Zorua—again.

“Wait!” he exclaims, evoking a startled yelp from both Pokémon and a flinch from the boy. But he stopped walking. “I… will we see again?”

The boy doesn’t answer, nor does he turn around. After a couple of beats, he resumes walking, Zorua right behind him. The Pokémon spares him a lazy glance, yawning.

“Maybe,” Eiji hears just before the boy’s silhouette is lost among the trees, and his heart is oddly at rest. Buddy sniffs at the air, preparing to chase them, but Eiji holds out a hand, smiling down at the Growlithe.

“You don’t need to do that Buddy. He’ll come back. I’m certain.”

And the next time, he would ask him his name.

His name is Ash—a strange name for a strange boy, Eiji supposes.

It takes some time until he loosens up, green eyes wary and alert of him all throughout their next meeting—but he couldn’t completely mask the damp gleam of hope beneath a cloud of hesitation. Although under his angelic appearance Ash possesses a sharp edge, he’s mostly a sweet child. His Zorua grows fond of Eiji, too, also loving to play pranks on Buddy.

They meet a couple of times every week at the Dreamyard. Every single day Eiji goes to the clearing where they met and waits until the sun sets, which is the signal that Ash wouldn’t go that day to see him. Despite the circumstances of their meeting, he feels utterly glad that he managed to make a friend, a _human_ one, in the foreign Unova.

He knows that the only reason that his mother and sister refrain from asking him where he’s going every afternoon is because they can sense his joy, a stark contrast from the forced smiles he was sporting ever since they moved.

Eiji also knows there’s something wrong with his new-found friend, that sometimes he and Zorua come with badly concealed bruises and both of their eyes shine with a fierce and dangerous glow. He knows there’s something wrong when Ash keeps silent when Eiji asks him where he lives, or suggests meeting in other places, or eludes questions that shouldn’t be avoided.

But Eiji trusts him and learns to keep quiet, because he realizes that as much as he needs a friend, Ash needs him too. The days where he comes a little worse for wear, he hesitantly laces their fingers and keeps silent, both children staring at the sky.

When Eiji squeezes back and Ash’s lips curl with a smile that sounds a lot like _thank you_, Eiji realizes that he’s doing this right.

The snow is barely starting to melt when Ash trusts him with something far more valuable than anything Eiji could ever own—his full name.

“Aslan Jade Callenreese,” he admits when Eiji comments how strange of a name _Ash_ is, and the sweet melody of the words is an antithesis to the far too serious expression on his face, “but don’t go saying it around.”

Eiji shakes his head earnestly, smile threatening to burst his cheeks. “It is beautiful.”

“It means ‘dawn’, apparently,” he drones, but a blush dusts his cheeks, “don’t call me like that though. It’s weird.”

_Dawn, huh? It suits him._ Eiji thinks, fondly, but keeps that thought to himself. He simply nods, returning his eyes to Zorua snuggling in his lap and smiles apologetically to the sulking Buddy, who with a huff goes to Ash’s side.

Winter melts into spring, spring warms into summer, and summer dries into autumn—before Eiji realizes it, the seasons transform into years.

Plenty of things change, but others don’t—the deafening silence in his house and his father’s absence, the nostalgia that invades him every time he thinks of Johto, Buddy by his side and his meetings with Ash.

That’s why he’s so surprised when, at the end of his last class in a peaceful spring day, a classmate approaches him to ask him to join the training club after class when it’s common knowledge he spends his afternoons doing _something_. He knows for a fact that his classmates, who he had started to get along better with once his English was somewhat decent, have a betting pool on what he does every afternoon. Though half the bets are that he has a secret girlfriend—at almost 15 girls are still kind of gross to him, especially with Ayame breaking into puberty—, there are very interesting ones.

He smiles wryly, bracing himself to reject the offer, when another classmate gets ahead of him.

“C’mon Eiji! Just this once. We’re kind of bored to always fight the same people, so we want to switch it up. Please?”

Eiji looks at the clock in the wall and sighs. “Just one or two battles.”

_It’ll be just a little while_, he tells himself while his classmates cheer. There is no guarantee Ash is going to show up today, after all.

He ends up doing much more than two battles.

“You’re really good,” whistles Sarah, the club captain, when they finish their battle. Buddy is very short of fainting, and Eiji represses the urge to immediately sprint to the Pokémon Center. “I’m not sure I would’ve won if I hadn’t had the type advantage. How come you haven’t joined the club?”

He laughs nervously, scratching the back of his head. “I tend to have my afternoons busy. And I’m not that good. I just know Buddy well.”

“That alone makes you better than half of the trainers here. And you demonstrated it by defeating them,” she tilts her head, grinning. “It’s evident you and your Pokémon share a tight bond. I think you only need more knowledge about battles themselves and other Pokémon. With only a little more training you could even challenge the Gym.”

“I’m not… really that much into battles,” he babbles. Sarah hums and her smile widens, dark eyes shining, as if she knows something he doesn’t.

“If you decide to, you can join this club whenever you want, Okumura.” The expression in her face turns softer. “You looked as if you were enjoying yourself.”

In the way to the Pokémon Center Eiji ponders her words, realizing that during the battles he did feel a thrill of adrenaline and fun (under the overpowering worry that Buddy would get hurt, of course). As soon as the nurse returns with Buddy, he gets him out of the Pokéball, crouching to his eye level.

Buddy tilts his head curiously, but there’s a spark in his eyes that wasn’t there before. In Johto, Eiji used to do a lot of play-battles with his friends, but nothing as serious as what they did today. He ruffles Buddy’s fur.

“So, did you like it?”

The Growlithe nods, wagging his tail. Eiji chuckles, but when he looks at the setting sun dread pours over him like a bucket of freezing water.

“_Ash._”

When he arrives to the Dreamyard, the trees are colored in the soft amber hues of the sunset, Ash’s hair shining like molten gold. His features are twisted in a tormented expression, Zorua pacing restlessly at his feet.

“I’m—” he gasps when he stops running, taking a heavy breath. Ash startles violently, and suddenly his face is so open and vulnerable, so immensely relieved, that Eiji feels like the air he just took was blown away. “I’m _so_ sorry. The training club invited me to join to their meeting today, and though I agreed to only a couple of battles I ended up fighting half the club and then I had to go to the Pokémon Center and it’s not really an excuse, but—”

“It’s okay,” Ash interrupts him, face quickly schooled into a neutral expression, although he’s blinking fairly quickly. “I just… nevermind. I wasn’t waiting very long. You always wait for me, it’s kind of unfair to always be expecting you to be here.”

It strikes Eiji suddenly how it must’ve looked to Ash when he arrived and, for the first time in approximately two years, he wasn’t there. Ash, who almost cried when Eiji called him _friend_, who always carries himself as if he was older and so painfully burdened, who is kind and so very vulnerable. The guilt burns, coursing through his veins.

“I’m _always_ going to be here,” he promises feverishly, hand fisting over his chest. “I’ll always wait for you.”

Ash gazes at him in surprise, green eyes wide and red blooming over his cheeks before he abruptly looks away, hands clenched in the pockets of his oversized jacket.

“Arceus, how can you say such embarrassing things?”

But Eiji can see the smile that is dancing shyly on his lips and laughs.

“You said the other day that you were in the training club.”

“I _said_ that the training club dragged me to one of their practices,” he specifies, both of them sitting over the grass, watching Zorua and Buddy play. The warmer weather is a blessing, even if that year neither Eiji nor Buddy fell ill, victims to the Unovan winter. Ash hums.

“And how was it?”

“It was nice, I guess.” He can’t contain a giggle when Zorua makes Buddy trip and then sticks his tongue out. “I’ve always been kind of scared of Pokémon battles. My parents forbid me to watch the League because I would burst into tears whenever a Pokémon got hurt.”

Ash snickers. “That sounds so much like you.”

“Hey,” he complains, swatting his hand at him. Ash just laughs harder, and it sounds like a Chimecho ringing happily. “But I had fun. I was really worried that Buddy would get hurt, but I didn’t do half bad. Sarah, the club captain, said it was because me and Buddy knew each other well.”

At hearing his name, the Growlithe stops playing and looks at them, as if he knows what they’re talking about. When it’s clear that Eiji wasn’t calling him, he pounces onto Zorua again, the other Pokémon squealing excitedly.

Eiji smiles.

“She was right,” Ash agrees, not looking at him. “Part of what makes a good trainer is knowing your team well. The other is knowing the enemy and devising a successful strategy to exploit their weaknesses while covering yours.”

“Oh? So you’re also a genius in Pokémon combat?” Eiji slurs with a sly smirk curling his lips. But Ash doesn’t respond to his prodding and merely shrugs.

“I have to know how to fight.”

He instantly deflates. Sometimes Eiji wonders what kind of life Ash has that makes him say things like that, or behave like someone twice their age. _He’s just a child_, he thinks, no matter how smart or strong Ash may be.

Despite the time that they’ve known each other, Ash is still a puzzle to Eiji. Of course, not the kind, bratty and vulnerable Ash, but the intelligent, wary and serious one. He still doesn’t know where he lives, doesn’t know where he comes from (though he’s obviously Unovan), doesn’t know where the mysterious bruises come from and doesn’t know why he comes some days and others not. But he knows enough to understand that he won’t get anything if he pressures him or asks questions.

Eiji wishes so dearly to help him, at least, that suddenly an idea blooms in his mind.

“Well, then I have to learn.”

Ash blinks, face twisting into a scowl. “_What?_ Didn’t you say that battles frightened you?”

“When I was a kid. And I had fun in the club.” He crosses his arms over his chest, a pout curling his lips downwards. He turns to Ash, a smile softening his face. “Besides, I will need to be strong if you ever need my help, won’t I?”

Ash gapes, processing his words, and his face reminds Eiji so much of a Magikarp that he can’t help but laugh. The other boy sputters, a blush rising to his face.

“You… you idiot,” he mutters, looking away and clenching his hands into fists, “you don’t need to. I can protect myself.”

“But I _want_ to,” Eiji smiles, taking Ash’s hand gently, “I don’t know a lot and might not be of much help, but I want to do something.”

“…you already do enough.” Ash looks at their linked hands and smiles so brightly that it takes Eiji’s breath away. “Thank you.”

He takes a moment to recover, face burning up. “That’s… that’s what friends are for.”

Eiji signs up to the training club the very next day. Sarah has an all-too-pleased smile on her lips, hand over her hip.

“You took a while,” she observes when he arrives to practice, her Panpour cheerfully waving to him and Buddy on her shoulder. “I’m glad you came.”

Months slip by, and before he knows it, he’s waving goodbye to the club captain in her graduation day. He still goes to the training club after that and still meets up with Ash at their little spot in the Dreamyard, now with some kind of schedule so Eiji doesn’t spend all of his afternoons there. The ache in his chest that yearns for Johto hasn’t relieved one bit, but nowadays the pain is more bearable—he feels more than content in Striaton City, now, and the memory Ecruteak City is shrouded in nostalgia and longing, but there’s no longer sorrow each time he remembers.

The silence in his house is also less asphyxiant now, more subdued, and his sister and him have the unspoken arrangement of returning home together the days he has training club and Ayame soccer. They try to talk.

When the summer holidays come, they make a point of spending more time together.

Their father is also trying to be more present. Eiji knows his father isn’t an evil man; on the contrary, his warm smiles, quiet laughs and gentle touch always made him feel safe when he was little. It’s just that he’s drowned himself so much in work that, even if it was for his and Ayame’s sakes, he can’t help but resent him a little for the times he wasn’t there.

But he is _trying_.

“Good morning, Eiji,” his father’s soft-spoken voice greets him one morning while he’s cooking some pancakes, Buddy snoring at his feet. The sound surprises him enough to almost drop the pan, but the Growlithe remains unbothered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I was distracted anyway,” Eiji waves him off, smiling. “What are you doing here? You normally go to work early.” _Early enough that we don’t see you in a daily basis_, he doesn’t say, but his father hears it anyway and winces.

“I… had the day off. I’ll still go to work, but I’m going to enter late.”

“I see.”

An awkward silence settles over them, only interrupted by the occasional flare up of the pan. He flips the pancakes.

“By the way, Eiji…,” starts his father, scratching the back of his head, “I heard from your mother that you’ve been going out frequently for quite some time now. Care to tell me what you’ve been doing?”

“I’m not doing anything illegal,” he rushes to assure before realizing that that makes it sound even more suspicious, “I mean…”

His father laughs. It’s the same sound that Eiji remembers from his childhood, if a bit more throaty and tired, and warmth blossoms in his chest. “I know. I’m just curious. If your mother suspected it was something dangerous, she would’ve already acted about it.”

He chuckles. “You’re right.”

“It has made you happier.” A strange spark shines in his eyes. “When we came here, your mother and I were worried—she told me you had trouble at school and missed very dearly Johto. But then you came back one day, completely drenched in snow, but happy. So she let you be.”

“I met someone,” he answers honestly, lips curling even upwards. His father’s eyes widen.

“A girl?”

“Come on, Dad,” Ayame’s groggy voice interrupts them, “we all know that big brother’s gay as hell.”

Her Butterfree is glued on her back, eyes bleary and tired. Ayame herself is rubbing her eyes, yawning. His father gapes and Eiji flusters, blood rushing to his face unwillingly.

“_Ayame!_”

“Eiji… is that… true?”

“It’s not,” he stresses, voice an octave higher. He attempts to ignore the loud and frantic rhythm of his heart, “I mean, _maybe_ I like men, but Ash is totally a friend.”

“See? Gay,” Ayame states bluntly. She yawns again, her mouth opening so wide that for a moment Eiji worries that she’s going to dislocate her jaw. Their father scolds her absently. “How much ‘till breakfast is ready?”

Eiji narrows his eyes, heart barely starting to wind down. His words are scathing. “No breakfast for the ones who stayed up all night watching Sinnoh’s contests and screaming every time their favorite contestant appeared on screen.”

She huffs, crossing her arms, voice passionate but quiet as Butterfree seemed to have dozed off. “I can’t help it, it’s the only natural reaction to—”

Her rant is interrupted by their father cracking up. Ayame blinks, flabbergasted, and after a couple of beats Eiji’s lips curl upwards. This feels almost like…

“Forgive me, I just… you two haven’t changed at all,” he wheezes, mirth dancing in his eyes. Ayame looks at him with wide eyes. “You used to have the same discussions when you were little. Maybe with different topics, but still the same essence. When it comes to Ayame you’ve always been a little more immature, Eiji.”

Both of them fluster up, but on Ayame’s lips there’s a goddamn satisfied smile. His father’s gaze fixes on him, and Eiji realizes for the first time that he almost reaches his father’s height.

“I don’t care if you like men or women, son, as long as it makes you happy. You can invite this Ash person whenever you want to to the house…”

“Oh please yes!” Ayame cries victoriously, rising her fists and making Butterfree stir, Buddy _still_ sleeping. “I want to meet whoever has brother so infatuated, and for so _long_, too. There are plenty of people in school really disappointed about that, and none of the bets have been proved despite the numerous attempts.”

Very conveniently Eiji notices in that moment that the pancakes are burning up.

The next time he and Ash meet, the curses at his sister are nothing short of abundant.

It’s as if a switch has been flipped. Since the moment he met him Eiji had already known that Ash was beautiful in an angelic, sort of childish kind of way. Nevertheless, at almost 15, he’s starting to develop into a handsome young man—and also a tall one, much to Eiji’s chagrin. Suddenly he notices the way his golden hair falls over his face, how outrageously perfect is the curve of his neck, the sharpened lines of his jaw, the intensity of the green in his eyes and, most of all, how resplendent are the smiles that Ash spares towards him.

It’s also not fair how Ash, being so smart and knowing him so well, catches on his odd behavior instantly.

“Is something wrong?” He questions, brows furrowing. Eiji laughs nervously, ignoring the puzzled looks that even Buddy is throwing his way.

“No, nothing at all, just thinking about something,” he explains, which isn’t exactly a lie, but also isn’t the truth. Ash lifts an eyebrow and _Arceus_ Eiji hates being so goddamn _transparent_—

He eventually lets it go after a lot of convincing. Thankfully. But it gets even worse

It’s like he can’t keep his eyes off Ash, as if there’s something that automatically attracts his gaze to him, and it drives him crazy. It doesn’t help that when they meet, it’s only both of them (their Pokémon don’t count at all) and there aren’t many other things he can focus on. Now he’s hyper-aware of every single touch—a brush of their fingers, an arm around his shoulders—, fireworks exploding in his stomach and body tensing involuntarily.

But despite the nervous energy that now fills him whenever he’s with Ash, he looks forward to their meetings with a woozy glee that wasn’t there before.

He’s so screwed and it’s totally Ayame’s fault. He hates her.

(But he also notices Ash sneaking glances at him during awkward pauses, eyes immediately drilling into the ground when their gazes cross for too long. Suspicious.

Probably he knows everything already.)

“Are you going to continue in the battling club next year?” Ash asks, leaning his body towards him. The wind is beginning to possess a chill bite, an augury of the upcoming season, and school’s very close to starting.

Fortunately, Eiji’s passions have cooled with the weather—enough to be manageable and return to acting with some sort of normalcy, though they certainly haven’t disappeared. He shrugs.

“I guess so. Without the captain it probably won’t be as interesting though.”

A smirk. “Oh? Have you become so good that you can already beat everyone else up?”

“Oh no, not all,” he snickers, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s just that the captain had really good strategies. I’ll just have to come up with something now.”

Ash remains silent, suddenly hugging his knees to his chest. “Do you like battling, Eiji?”

There’s something amiss in Ash’s voice. Zorua suddenly approaches them, probably sensing his master’s distress. Eiji looks up to the sky, already colored with a paler shade of blue.

“I guess so. I don’t like it when Buddy gets hurt, but now I’ve realized how much it has strengthened the bond between us,” he smiles, feeling the Growlithe’s fur brush against his arm. “I do enjoy myself when I battle, though. What about you?”

Ash’s voice is mechanic. “I’m good at it.”

Eiji frowns, but his voice is not unkind. “Being good at something doesn’t mean you like it.”

Ash breathes sharply, and then, very quietly: “I like investigating. Especially Pokémon research.”

He says it in such a way that it’s as if he’s confessing an unforgivable sin. Eiji looks at him and smiles, even though Ash has his eyes pierced in his knees.

“You’re very smart after all. I always knew you were a nerd.”

Ash straightens up abruptly, flush so dark that even his neck is red. He sputters, embarrassment plain as day. Eiji can’t contain his snickers, but there’s a hidden relief in the other’s eyes that he’s comforted to see.

“But really,” he assures him once he’s calmed down, caressing Buddy’s fur, “it’s actually perfect for you. I can see why you like it. I heard in school that Professor Randy is taking in apprentices, maybe you can…”

“I can’t,” Ash cuts him off, startling Eiji with the sudden steel in his voice and sobered expression. Zorua looks at him worriedly.

“Professor Randy is a really good researcher, and Nuvema Town isn’t that far,” he insists, “Maybe if you explain to her…”

“I can’t go back to Nuvema Town,” Ash hisses, anger contorting his face. Eiji flinches at his raised voice and Buddy tenses. Zorua nudges him, trying to ground him, and with a gasp his face comes undone with a sudden and deep sorrow. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, shoulders slumping and hair covering his eyes. The sight makes Eiji’s heart ache.

“No, it was my fault,” he says dismissively, trying to lighten the air, “I was the one who pushed you. I’m sorry.”

“I still shouldn’t have talked to you like that.” Ash’s hand trembles when ever so slowly he touches Zorua’s fur. Eiji resists the urge of holding his hand. “I shouldn’t think about it, too. Being a Pokémon researcher is but a mere dream.”

The despair and acceptance of his words makes him feel as if he just fell in an abyss. Eiji is at a loss and when Zorua looks at him, begging him to say something, he can’t.

“I think is too soon to tell yet,” he ends up telling him clumsily, “I’m sure that if it’s what you really want, you’ll be able to do it.”

Ash remains silent and he gulps. All curled up on himself, he looks too much like the child Eiji met in that fateful winter day, the one who showed him the nostalgic colors of Johto when he needed them the most.

_I want to help him_, Eiji thinks so earnestly that his chest tightens painfully and feels he’s bleeding dry. _I want to protect him. I want to be beside him. I lo_—

Oh.

He exhales deeply because in the blink of an eye it’s hard to breathe. But Ash is still sitting melancholically, so Eiji pushes his feelings to the back of his mind because _this isn’t the moment_.

Once more, he crosses his gaze with Zorua’s concerned one. And _projects_. Projects the fresh breeze of Ecruteak City, the thousand colors of the trees in autumn, the tall and old towers. The Pokémon’s irises spark with an electric blue. When Ash lifts his eyes, he’s no longer in the familiar spot of the Dreamyard.

“One day I’ll take you there,” Eiji promises, and Ash turns his head towards him sharply. He takes a breath and worries his bottom lip. “You’ll be able to be whatever you want. I promise.”

Eiji pretends he doesn’t see the tears cascading from his eyes.

It’s almost winter again.

Snow coats every surface his eyes fix on, covering everything with a white, thin layer. It came early this year, forcing people and Pokémon alike to protect against the sudden cold. Buddy plays contentedly on the snow when they reach their spot in the Dreamyard, unbothered by the chill, and that’s exactly why, despite being a Fire Type, he gets sick often. But Eiji lets him be, knowing that scolding him won’t make a difference.

When the setting sun finally envelops the forest in a golden glow, Eiji sighs and gets up from the ground, shaking the snow from his pants. Ash wouldn’t be coming that day.

“Oh? What do we have here?”

Eiji jumps at the strange voice and words laced with mockery, breaking the otherwise peaceful silence. He takes a moment to recover, straightening up and turning towards the sound—a silhouette hidden in the growing shadows of the trees.

“Can I help you?” He asks politely, trying to detail the stranger. Sometimes, when Eiji waits for Ash, wandering trainers bump into him; mostly, though, they tend to be kind. This boy, with dark clothing and pushed-back bottle blond hair, doesn’t seem like a trainer at all. Buddy puts himself between them, growling menacingly with distrustful eyes.

Normally, Eiji would scold him for the unnatural and rude behavior, but there’s something about the stranger that sets him off.

“Help me? Certainly,” he drawls, a smirk dancing on his lips. There’s a wicked spark in his pale green eyes. “It has come to my attention that the prince apparently escapes a couple of times every week, and it’s been going on for quite a while. Who would even guess what he comes here for?”

“Are you talking about… Ash?” Eiji questions slowly, mouth dry and tongue weighting like lead, because he doesn’t understand anything he’s saying. The victorious smile from the stranger makes him shiver and step back.

“Why, you’re really helpful. So you do know him. And you’re pretty normal, for what I can see.” His eyes sweep over him in a disgusted glance. “Why do you know him? Why does he come here?”

All this cryptid talking is starting to fray on Eiji’s nerves. “I’m sorry, but what are you talking about?”

The stranger chuckles, right hand searching for something on his pocket. His hair glints when he steps out of the trees’ shadows.

“Of course, where are my manners?” He steps towards them, Buddy barking in warning. “My name is Arthur, member of the Team lead by Dino Golzine and his untouchable genius heir, Ash Lynx,” his lips twist into a triumphant and wicked smile at his bloating, “Or should I say, our apparently soft-hearted prince. Vullaby, _feint_!”

Buddy gets hit by the attack of the Pokémon with full force, flinching but not losing his footing. Eiji grits his teeth, choosing to stay silent until he knows what the hell is happening. Aside from all the nonsense this Arthur person was spewing, the only thing he’s certain of is that he wants to fight against them.

“Buddy, _Leer_!”

The Vullaby stumbles back, cowering from Buddy’s crimson-glowing glare. Arthur laughs, a rumbling, unsettling sound. His body exudes overconfidence. Eiji clenches his fists.

The rest of the battle passes in a blur, blood rushing in his ears but the Growlithe before him willing him to stay focused. Part of his mind reels from the things Arthur said before—_Dino Golzine, heir, team_—, but he pushes the thoughts back. This isn’t the moment.

When Buddy’s _Ember_ finally defeats the rival Pokemon, Vullaby fainting on the ground, Arthur looks down at him with unbelieving eyes. Eiji stares back despite the threat of his knees buckling beneath him. But then Arthur smirks, face darkening, and something heavy drops to his stomach, dread washing over him.

“If this was an honorable battle, I’d have lost,” he slurs, lips curling upwards, “but our team doesn’t fight such battles.”

When Buddy abruptly turns around at a sound behind Eiji, it’s too late.

Something hits him in the head, _hard_. The ground suddenly isn’t beneath his feet, but under the left side of his body and darkness creeps in the corners of his vision, world dizzy and blurry. He vaguely hears Buddy’s livid snarl and someone screaming in pain. His head throbs and something wet trails in the back of his neck, but none of that matters when he hears a pained yelp from his dear Pokémon.

A silhouette hovers over him, kicking him in the stomach and making him unwillingly heave and cough violently, as well as tears erupt from his eyes. It takes an eternal second for him to regain the air in his lungs.

After that, he barely registers when a shadow grabs him by his shirt and lifts him from the ground, punching him in his already throbbing face before letting him fall again. In the distance, Buddy howls, enraged, before he suddenly stops. The sun’s light is offensively bright and the shadows blurry and dark.

The snow and the numb cold are a balm against his pulsing wounds and rampaging heart.

“—an advice for you, samurai boy,” Arthur’s voice threatens somewhere above him, “get out of Unova and never see Ash Lynx again. He doesn’t belong with a weak-fry of the normal world like you.”

_Ash_, Eiji’s confused mind supplies unhelpfully, _Ash… he knows these people_. There’s a high-pitched whistle in his ears and male voices barely sound above of a weird static.

“_—kill him?_”

“_No—also a warning to him—_”

When Eiji opens his eyes again, Arthur and whoever was there with him are gone, sky a deep blue and temperature plummeting. There’s something warm against his chest, fur tickling his nose. His body aches and throbs terribly, especially his head.

He absently registers that it smells like blood.

Eiji doesn’t know how much time he lies there on the piercing cold, face numb and body unresponsive, but the moon is bright and high in the sky when his eyelids can no longer support their own weight and he surrenders himself to the darkness.

Eiji wakes up to a blinding darkness and a deafening beep. And a sobbing voice.

He takes far too long to realize his eyes are still sealed shut. He clenches his fist experimentally, body sluggish and barely responding to him.

“I’ve done this,” the voice exhales in a tortuous lament, hoarse and exhausted. It is so achingly familiar that his stomach twists at the fragileness of it. “This my fault. I’m so, so sorry, Eiji. But I’m going to make it right, I promise.”

He hears a step, as if the owner of the tormented voice was going to approach him, but after a pause he seems to step back. An urge of getting up and console the strange apparition flares up, and he tries to move. But his body doesn’t seem to have the strength of getting up on his own.

“I was selfish,” a quiet whisper admits in the verge of new tears, “I was so selfish to want to be beside you. You were so _bright_, so caring, so genuine. I’m sorry I dragged you into this. You don’t deserve to be associated with scum like me.”

He wants to argue with him, though he doesn’t know why. He wants to tell him that he’s not to blame; it’s not his fault that Eiji was weak enough to lose. Three words are uttered fervently, like a prayer, and Eiji’s breath hitches, beeps slightly increasing in speed.

_Ash_, he’s struck with the identity of the voice, willing himself to get up and stop him. But he can’t. He _can’t_.

“_Goodbye._”

In the blink of an eye, he’s alone, and tears gather in his eyes. It’s not fair, he can get up, he can follow him and show him he’s wrong—

—he doesn’t know exactly when he succumbs to the darkness, but when he’s aware of himself again the room is covered in the pale hues of dawn, the aurora burning the edges of the sky.

The following hours pass in a blur. The dark circles and bloodshot eyes are prominent in every member of his family, as well as the relieved tears. Ayame sobs like the little girl Eiji knows she isn’t anymore, his father also shedding tears openly and his mother biting her lower lip so harshly he worries it’s going to cut open.

The doctor seems also relieved and emotive, a soft smile on her face. She explains his wounds—the gravest being a concussion and bruised ribs, aside a mild hypothermia—and informs that, fortunately, the concussion didn’t cause any lasting damage but that he’s staying in the hospital for two more days just in case.

Buddy is the one who greets him more effusively. Even though there are bandages also wrapped around him, he jumps to the bed and licks his face enthusiastically, nuzzling into his chest and yipping. He laughs even when his chest aches, and while the Pokemon eventually calms down he doesn’t leave his bedside, curled protectively beside him and a sheer determination in his eyes.

His mother is the one who addresses the elephant in the room when Ayame and his father go home to eat.

“You gave us a scare,” she tells him, seated in a chair beside his bed. Her shoulders are tense and her eyes shine with a hard steel that makes Eiji know that it was much more than a scare. “It was late and you didn’t get home. And then we got the call. Apparently, a disheveled and hysterical blond boy brought you here, but as soon as the hospital staff attended you and assured him you were okay, he disappeared.”

The silent question is evident, but Eiji is much too occupied in the thought that it was Ash who found and rescued him, even when he had the gall to say all that stuff about protecting him and staying beside him.

He’s no more than a weak trainer who couldn’t even protect his own Pokémon.

A sigh. “A nurse found this when he was making rounds in the early morning, in the night table.”

His mother searches for something in her purse, Eiji recoiling in surprise when he recognizes the red and white hues of a Pokéball. A slightly crumpled note is tied to it with a crimson thread.

“What’s that?”

“I was hoping you could tell me that.” She tries to smile, handing him the objects with trembling hands. Eiji takes them gently, reading the neat calligraphy written with a black pen.

_I shall hope this will be enough to ward off nightmares and protect you when I’m not there._

_Thank you for every moment I spent by your side. They will be my most precious treasure._

_A.J.C._

“Eiji?” His mother questions, voice laced with concern, but the tears that prickle at his eyes fall by their own accord when he looks at what’s inside the Pokeball. A Munna looks up at him, eyes kind and bright.

Warm arms wrap around him, and he allows himself to fall apart. Buddy nuzzles his arm, trying to comfort him. He doesn’t know how long he spends bawling, but it feels that he can’t stop—until he does, utterly drained.

His mother doesn’t ask more questions, embracing him until the room falls into darkness and the rest of the family arrives.

A month later sees him in a winter day not unlike the one where he met Ash.

Their clearing in the Dreamyard looks the same as ever, and Eiji can deceive himself into thinking that this is just a normal day where he’ll meet Ash, though his aching chest is prone to disagree. Buddy is ever vigilant beside him, wary of their surroundings.

Aurora, the Munna that Ash gave him, is safe in his pocket. Eiji sighs, the hot puff dissolving into the cold air. He has to enjoy his temporary freedom. Since he got home, his family had been watching him like Staraptors, and only today he managed to fool Ayame and get out of the house.

“Ash,” he starts, even though he feels kind of silly because he’s alone. But he needs to do this. “I want to tell you that what happened wasn’t your fault. It never was. None of what you’re going through, whatever it is, is your fault.”

He closes his eyes, listening to Buddy sniff the air and relax marginally. “My parents decided that the best thing for me is to leave Unova and return to Johto,” he admits bashfully, maybe because even though he didn’t delate Arthur’s identity he confessed that he had threatened that it was best for him to leave Unova. “I’ll go with one of father’s dearest friends, a highly recognized professor called Shunichi Ibe, and will finish school there.” A humorless chuckle. “It’s funny how I wished for so long to return to Johto and now I don’t want to. Because my family will stay here. Because you will stay here.

“I’m sorry, Ash. If I were a better trainer, none of this would’ve happened. But I promise,” he pauses, taking a gulp of air, “I promise I’ll become strong enough. I may say goodbye to Striaton City and Unova, but I refuse to say it to you. I’ll return. Please wait for me. Take care of yourself. I don’t know what you’re tangled into, but I promise you you’ll be free. You deserve to do whatever you want.”

And then, four words. The winter wind almost drowns them and takes them away, but they’re strong enough to endure. The answer to those whispered in the hospital room.

Nothing happens. The Dreamyard is just as empty. But he feels lighter, somehow knowing that his words reached him.

_“I’ll wait just as you did for me.”_

Eiji returns to Johto in the peak of winter, the sky bleak and grey in the bustling and immense harbor of Castelia City. As the coast of Unova becomes smaller minute per minute until it is merely a blur in a pale sea, he silently bids farewell to everything that he knows and has grown to love.

He pours himself into training. Johto is warm and familiar, professor Ibe kind and paternal. They get along well, and Eiji finishes high school without any issues. And then…

…then it takes two years to conquer every Gym in Johto and the Elite Four, and another whole year to do the same for Kanto. He has minor brushes with many organizations, an annoying rival who ends up becoming a friend and a glamourous Team Rocket Executive that is something between friend and enemy. Mount Silver becomes his home for four seasons, Eiji returning occasionally to the Indigo Plateau to fight challengers, visit Ibe in New Bark Town or take a walk in Ecruteak City.

It’s when he meets some Unovan guests of Ibe that, finally, he ends up tracing a plan and deems himself strong enough to go back to Unova.

When Eiji returns to Castelia City five years after he went away, flowers blossom with the hopeful fragrance of spring.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this written for the longest time. Finally I managed to find the resolve to publish it. This was supposed to be a fluffy and self-indungent, but... guess that Banana Fish transforms everything it touches into angst lol. I know this does well as a stand alone, but I want to follow it (can you tell I fell in love with this AU?). I have no idea when I'll publish the next part of the series, but I have everything planned so hopefully it won't be very long.
> 
> I hope that you liked it and would appreciate it a lot if you could write your thoughts on a review below or come scream at me in my tumblr @vanicanela18
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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